The abandoned church ruins stood silently at the edge of downtown afterward while cold evening fog drifted heavily through shattered stained-glass windows and collapsed stone arches beneath a dying crimson sunset, and despite the city lights glowing faintly beyond the ruined cemetery surrounding the ancient cathedral there lingered something deeply wrong within the darkness swallowing the broken sanctuary tonight.
Not empty darkness.
Waiting darkness.
Hungry darkness breathing softly beneath centuries of buried blood and forgotten prayers.
Marcus Kane walked slowly through the ruined chapel afterward while heavy boots echoed against cracked marble floors stained black with age now, and behind him dozens of hooded cult followers knelt silently around strange burning symbols carved directly into the stone beneath flickering candlelight.
The air smelled metallic again.
Blood.
Rotting incense.
Rain-soaked earth drifting inward through shattered cathedral walls.
